All day today, two junior boys have been following me around between class periods serenading me with voice and guitar.
The funny thing is, when I taught them last year one of them barely said two words to me from August through June. Huh.
(This is the same boy I made the mistake of asking "Why in the world do you sag your skinny jeans?" I won't give the answer here, because--trust me-- you really don't want to know.)
I have never been so appealing to the male gender.
Too bad they're 17 and I'm not a sicko.
Showing posts with label hair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hair. Show all posts
Thursday, December 17, 2009
The Return of the Back Handed Compliment
Today in 6th period, one of my students stopped me and said,
"Miss, me and Tyrell think your hair looks really pretty today."
Ahh. That's nice, right?
The problem isn't in what was said. The problem is in the way that it was said. I'm going to write that sentence again with emphasis added:
"Miss, me and Tyrell think your hair looks really pretty TODAY."
You see, it's the TODAY that I have a problem with. While I'm happy that my hair, does in fact, look pretty TODAY, I'd like to think that it looks pretty on a regular basis.
I've got to get up early more often. Seriously.
"Miss, me and Tyrell think your hair looks really pretty today."
Ahh. That's nice, right?
The problem isn't in what was said. The problem is in the way that it was said. I'm going to write that sentence again with emphasis added:
"Miss, me and Tyrell think your hair looks really pretty TODAY."
You see, it's the TODAY that I have a problem with. While I'm happy that my hair, does in fact, look pretty TODAY, I'd like to think that it looks pretty on a regular basis.
I've got to get up early more often. Seriously.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Cheaper than therapy....
Once upon a time when I was a junior at BYU I had a day when it felt like all the forces in the Universe (and my evil American Literature professor) were conspiring against me. I came home in a lather of anger, frustration and bile muttering incoherent threats aimed at peoplewhothinktheyknoweverythingjustbecausethey'republishedpoets, and bemoaning my sad state--brilliant, but misunderstood.
Somehow, the anger I felt at my professor expanded to include all of the boys who refused to love me until I rolled it all into a fiery ball of righteous indignation. "Why do I allow these MEN to influence me?!" I bellowed in misguided feminist furor.
I knew just what to do. I would CUT MY HAIR!! That would show all of them.
Why did I have long hair in the first place? To please boys, that's why, and what good was it doing me? Did those boys ask me out? NO!! (Perhaps this experience sheds some light on one of the reasons they didn't. Hmmmmm. Nah! I'm charming, darn it!)
Luckily, I marched my indignant self to the lovely and talented Betsy (who cuts my sister's hair to this day) who gave me this haircut:

It was 1995. Don't be hatin'.
Anywho, that haircut changed my whole perspective. I felt sassy and in control, and those boys who told me to never cut my hair yet never asked me out? Well... they still didn't ask me out, but they thought my hair was cute.
Flash forward to now. I've had really long hair for a really long time and it was just boring me to death. I feared cutting it, not because of the rejection of men (I have come to terms with the fact that I am, in fact, a man repeller) but because I didn't want to have old white lady/mom hair.
The start of this school year has been incredibly stressful for a host of reasons I'm not going to get into here for fear of releasing the "Indignation Beast" that still resides inside me, and things finally built to a boiling point. What did I do? I made an appointment with the lovely and talented Melinda who is cheaper than a shrink AND is really good with a straightening iron.
She listened to my incoherent ramblings (IhatethewayIlookeverysingledayandIdon'tknowwhattodo'causeIdon'twantmomhairorlooklikeRonaldMcDonaldsowhatshouldIdo?) calmed my fears, and gave me the cutest, sassiest, non mom hair cut ever. I LOVE LOVE LOVE it.
So here it is:
Straight:

Curly:

A good haircut can save your life.... or your sanity.
Somehow, the anger I felt at my professor expanded to include all of the boys who refused to love me until I rolled it all into a fiery ball of righteous indignation. "Why do I allow these MEN to influence me?!" I bellowed in misguided feminist furor.
I knew just what to do. I would CUT MY HAIR!! That would show all of them.
Why did I have long hair in the first place? To please boys, that's why, and what good was it doing me? Did those boys ask me out? NO!! (Perhaps this experience sheds some light on one of the reasons they didn't. Hmmmmm. Nah! I'm charming, darn it!)
Luckily, I marched my indignant self to the lovely and talented Betsy (who cuts my sister's hair to this day) who gave me this haircut:

It was 1995. Don't be hatin'.
Anywho, that haircut changed my whole perspective. I felt sassy and in control, and those boys who told me to never cut my hair yet never asked me out? Well... they still didn't ask me out, but they thought my hair was cute.
Flash forward to now. I've had really long hair for a really long time and it was just boring me to death. I feared cutting it, not because of the rejection of men (I have come to terms with the fact that I am, in fact, a man repeller) but because I didn't want to have old white lady/mom hair.
The start of this school year has been incredibly stressful for a host of reasons I'm not going to get into here for fear of releasing the "Indignation Beast" that still resides inside me, and things finally built to a boiling point. What did I do? I made an appointment with the lovely and talented Melinda who is cheaper than a shrink AND is really good with a straightening iron.
She listened to my incoherent ramblings (IhatethewayIlookeverysingledayandIdon'tknowwhattodo'causeIdon'twantmomhairorlooklikeRonaldMcDonaldsowhatshouldIdo?) calmed my fears, and gave me the cutest, sassiest, non mom hair cut ever. I LOVE LOVE LOVE it.
So here it is:
Straight:
Curly:
A good haircut can save your life.... or your sanity.
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